John Gets His Balls Emptied

"It's time," John thought to himself. "I have to get my balls emptied."

He judged himself silently for being so crude. He sat on the gray couch with his arms crossed across his sunken chest, staring at the powered-off flat-screen TV. Sally had left a year ago, called up for mandatory sexual service under the new laws. His wife, Betsy, had died ten years ago in a car accident, riding with her dad to a geology conference. Rocks ran in the family. Since then, he hadn't done much besides teach algebra and raise Sally. With Sally gone, all he had left was this couch and a stack of un-graded homework papers.

John picked up the remote and depressed the button with an index finger. A commercial came on. A sexy big-titted blonde purred into a microphone, "Men! President Miller is looking out for you. Don't be ashamed to get your needs met. Come to your nearest respite center to take your pick of hot, young, sexy girls. It's not just for sad, pathetic incels. We know you all turn into animals when your dicks get hard. We've built the world's best enrichment centers for all you animals, and you paid for it, so you might as well come and get some trim." A phone number flashed onto the screen. You could text the word "FUCK" to it and it would text you back with the address of your nearest two respite centers.

When John's phone buzzed, the first center on the list was Pleasant Valley Respite Center. That was the one Sally was at. He wondered if they would let him fuck his own daughter. Not that he wanted to, but he had friends whose designs on their daughters, he knew, were less than honorable. He couldn't blame them. John's designs on his friends' daughters were also less than honorable. Not his own daughter, though, he couldn't go there. He didn't want to think about her in Pleasant Valley, about all the guys who were probably just like him, just as old and gross, and what they were doing to his daughter.

The second center on the list was Sunny Oaks Respite Center. It was a four-hour drive. John checked his watch. He got up and looked for the keys.

Driving to Sunny Oaks, John wondered whether he would get to choose a girl to fuck, or whether one would be assigned to him. He knew from movies that in a Vegas brothel, the women lounged around and you could walk around with a cocktail in your hand and hunt until you were ready to pull the trigger, so to speak. He suspected it wasn't going to be like that. It had been so long since his dick had been inside a woman -- eleven years, in fact. He and Betsy had been having a dry spell when the truck T-boned her Honda Civic.

When John arrived at the center, he was led to a room full of other men sitting in hard chairs and was handled a tablet. "Since you're a first-timer, you'll have to fill in this questionnaire about your personality and sexual preferences." Sexual preference? His preference was to get his dick hard and then stick it in a wet pussy; he was no longer very concerned about whose pussy it was.

"Can't I just, I don't know, pick a girl out of a lineup?" he asked Davida, his assigned facilitator.

Davida laughed, tossing her wavy blonde hair back. "Oh, my, no. Remember, this place isn't just about extracting the cum from your balls. We scientifically calculate the best possible match for you every time you visit. The computer makes better decisions than you ever could make for yourself, and that translates into maximum satisfaction for you. The more satisfied you are, the more protected the rest of us are from the consequences of the bad decisions you make when your dick gets too dry!"

John flicked through the pages of the survey with his finger. He had never been particularly kinky. Betsy liked it pretty straightforward, usually missionary position in the dark. He liked it that way. Her cunt had been hot, and it had worked out as far as making Sally was concerned. One of the options on the tablet was "anal". One time, he'd watched an illegal porn movie (illegal because all porn was now) and had two double IPAs; then he'd asked Betsy what she thought about buttsex. She was aghast. "Poop comes out of there!" He didn't check the box.

John thought about what he wanted. Ever since Sally and her friends had turned eighteen, he had been looking at some of those friends' tight asses and teacup tits. Sally's friend Bobbi was particularly hot. She was about 5'2'' with a big butt that looked like it would be fun to slap, and little tits that she didn't seem to wear a bra for. He knew all the girls here were between 18 and 20 years old, because stopping horny men from going on killing sprees required granting them access to girls who were just barely old enough to consent. Not that the girls' consent had much to do with anything.

"If you're done with the survey, I'll take you to orientation," said Davida. What did it matter? He just wanted sex. He tapped a few circles and was done with it.

When they settled in the orientation room, an older brunette woman arrived and turned on the projector. "Welcome, new clientele of the Sunny Oaks Respite Facility! My name is Latrelle and I'm the assistant operations manager. This center is here to serve you and your needs. The girls here have been trained to give a man everything he wants, with a few boundaries. The eighteen-year-olds are our youngest natural resources. Each of them has been trained to make her hot little pussy available to you, whether you want to eat it, plow it with your dick, or both. The nineteen-year-olds, the ones in their middle year at our wonderful facility, are learning to suck cock. If you love getting your dick sucked, you should get matched with a nineteen-year-old. And finally, the twenty-year-olds are specializing in anal. They're a little older, but if you love to screw a nice tight asshole, there's your chance!"

John thought about pedagogy. He wondered how they had decided on this sequence of learning objectives. It made sense to leave anal for last, but why not start with blowjobs?

Latrelle continued, "When it comes to consent, you don't have to worry. Girls between 18-20 are a national resource; their bodies have so much strategic value that their right to say 'no' doesn't matter. But that doesn't mean you can do anything. If it looks like you're going to put a girl's life in danger or permanently maim her body, our armed guards will have words with you. Don't fuck it up. Enjoy the sex and everyone will have a nice time. Including your assigned girl -- it turns out that most girls get pretty horny when they're getting dicked down around the clock. At that age, the more they get, the more they want!"

This hadn't been how sex worked when John was nineteen. He remembered sitting with Betsy in the back seat of his ancient Tesla and how long it took to convince her to let him touch her boob.

"After we go over the remaining rules and regulations, you'll be handed a room number and the pleasure will begin. When you arrive at your room, strip naked and lie down on the bed. Then press the call button on the wall to your right. Your girl will arrive within a few minutes. In the meantime, you can feel free to get yourself ready in whatever way you want. Some gentlemen prefer to have a full erection when their assigned lady arrives, but like I said, as long as no one gets physically hurt, and as long as you respect the boundaries for your girl's age range, there are no rules."

John was handed the number 47. Filing out of the dreary classroom, he studied the building map and concluded that he would have to climb a flight of stairs. There was an elevator, but he figured the stairs would be a good warm-up for what was about to come.

He walked down a corridor full of doors leading to tiny rooms, and finally found number 47. It had barely enough room for a double bed, which was made up with plain white sheets. Next to the bed was a nightstand with a big bottle of sexual lubricant on it. Latrelle had reminded them about how the drugs the girls had been given made them immune to all sexually transmitted infections, so there was no need for condoms.

John pulled his jeans off and unbuttoned his yellow and black flannel shirt. When he lay naked on the bed, he saw that the ceiling was mirrored. He studied his reflection. Sandy hair, needing a haircut a bit, glasses with clear plastic frames, a short beard. He hoped he could leave his glasses on during the sex; he wanted to see what he was getting. His chest showed how long it had been since he had seen the inside of a gym, and the upper half of his body was hairy. Below, his flaccid cock rested. John was a shower, not a grower. He had always been proud of his cock, which was cut and had a prominent raphe running down its underside. He hadn't been with many women besides Betsy, but when he discreetly checked out other men in locker rooms, he could tell he had been dealt a good hand, penis-wise. His balls were about as saggy as a 55-year-old man could expect his sack to be, and were hairy like his chest. He had skinny legs and big feet. He guessed he wasn't any 18-year-old woman's idea of a stud. But it had been some other man who decided that she should have to fuck guys like John for national security's sake. John was just enjoying the consequences of that decision. He pressed the call button.

Before he had even had the chance to play with his cock, the door opened. "Hi. I'm Mandy." Mandy was about 5'6" and had honey blonde hair that flowed down past her shoulders. She had a face that you might see on a girl next door. She was the girl next door, to somebody. She wore a hot pink nightgown that barely concealed tangelo-sized tits and stopped just south of where her pussy must be. Her legs were long and smooth, and her toenails were painted orange.

Yum.

"Nice to meet you, Mandy, I'm John, but you can call me 'Daddy'." John wondered how those words had come out of his mouth. He was a daddy, all right, but he had never thought much about a woman calling him that in bed. Mandy was certainly young enough to be his daughter. He did some quick math and realized that if he'd started young, he could even have been her grandfather.

"Okay, Daddy," said Mandy, giggling and touching her fingertips to her glossy, pink lips. John thought about how those lips would feel around his cock, and then remembered he had selected an 18-year-old, so there would be no blow jobs this time. Oh well, cunt felt better anyway.

John realized he wasn't sure what to do next. Latrelle had probably said something about the protocol, but his mind had been deep in the well of cum-brained thoughts, too deep to process any auditory input. Fortunately, Mandy sat down on the bed next to him and placed her small hand on his thigh. He wondered how long it had been since someone had touched him like this. He didn't know.

John sat up and pulled Mandy's face into his beard. He kissed her, first gently, then running his tongue back and forth along the lips, then slipping his tongue inside her sweet little mouth. She tasted like cough drops. He wondered what her pussy was going to taste like. All in good time.

John stuck his tongue in Mandy's ear, remembering how that used to drive Betsy wild. Mandy's eyes rolled back in her head. He wondered whether these girls faked it. He guessed it didn't matter, as long as he felt good.

After biting her earlobe for a bit and making his way back to her lips for more frenching, it was time to get down to business. John pulled the nightgown up and Mandy raised her arms submissively. He tossed it on the floor and licked her armpits. She was freshly showered, but not wearing deodorant, and her armpits tasted just musky enough to tell him that she was in the first flower of womanhood. Mandy lay down on her back, making room for John to lie next to her. He lay alongside her and pressed his large but still-soft cock against her crotch, grinding. At his age, it took a while to get hard. There was no need to rush.

John studied Mandy's tits. They were perfect, small, firm, and riding high on her chest. He buried his face between them, rubbing his mustache and beard on her bare skin. He squeezed one nipple with each hand and she cried out. He took her left tit into his mouth; most of it fit inside. He slid his lips to just cover up the nipple, and bit, causing her to cry out again.

John was starting to get horned up. He felt her pussy, which was wet. They weren't kidding when they said most of the girls enjoyed this. What a little slut, getting wet for a man who was definitely old enough to be her daddy. John's cock twitched. He slipped his finger into her wet hole and jackhammered it in and out. "Yes! I like that, Daddy!" she said. He brought his face down into her crotch and began to eat her out. She seemed to be enjoying it. He always liked burying his face in a hot vagina. He slid his tongue into her cunt while tweaking her tiny clitoris, and she thrusted her cunt into his face as if she was trying to facefuck him.

He did enough of that to entertain himself; this wasn't about her pleasure, after all. It was about him getting to fuck for the first time in eleven years, and a beautiful young girl, at that.

"Do you want Daddy's cock, Mandy?"

"Oh, yes, sir!" she moaned.

"Then get on your knees." As if she had done this hundreds of times before (and John knew she already had), Mandy flipped over and got on her elbows and knees, sticking her butt out so that the slit of her pussy lips was exposed and was all front and center. John loved when a woman got in that position. She was showing him the best of what she had to offer: her asshole and cunt, with the tits nearby enough to fondle while he admired the holes. John jacked his dick a few times to make sure it was hard enough to slip into Mandy's wet young cunt. He was ready. "Fuck!" He leaned into her and drove his penis all the way into her vagina. There was no need for the lube; she was wetter than a pond.

"Yes, Daddy!" Mandy said.

John began to fuck Mandy from behind. He had forgotten how good it felt to fuck a woman. His dick felt warm and hot and the feeling spread throughout his entire body. He felt like he was full of light as he pumped in and out of her pink, young hole. He reached out to squeeze her boobs a little, but realized it worked better just to focus on the feeling of his penis in her vagina and on moving it in and out.

Latrelle had explained these girls couldn't get pregnant, but John still couldn't help thinking about putting a baby in Mandy. Even though he was old, he probably had at least a few sperm left that were strong enough to swim up all the way down her ovarian tubes. That would be hot. Her cunt was a hot sleeve tightening around his manhood. He was almost glad she couldn't give blowjobs yet; just pillaging everything her vagina had to offer was engrossing enough.

Out of nowhere, John felt the urge to slap Mandy's ass, so he did, without warning her. She cried out and he did it again. It seemed like her cunt got wetter. He had meant to make this last longer, but Mandy's cunt felt too good.

"Take your daddy's cum, slut!" he growled.

"Yes! Yes, Daddy, fill up my hot little eighteen-year-old pussy with your slime. Give it all to me." John felt the heat and shame of the realization blossoming within him that yes, he was exactly the kind of creep who lusted after girls younger than his own daughter. He had been able to deny it before. Sure, his cock would get hard when Bobbi came over, but he would tell himself that this was an involuntary biological response, and would force his attention onto taxes or cleaning the fireplace. But with his cock inside an eighteen-year-old vagina, he could no longer deny his true nature to himself: he was just a gross, dirty old man who wanted young pussy. His balls contracted and he blew his load in Mandy's cunt.

John was an on-again, off-again masturbator; lately he had been more on the "off" side, so he had a big load saved up. He pulled out and let her hold the position, ass protruding in the air towards him, cum dripping out of her pussy and down onto the white sheets.

He lay down, sweaty, panting. Mandy climbed on top of him and gently rubbed her crotch on the base of his cock. Her sparse pubic hair scratched his skin. "Thank you for all the cum, Daddy." He felt giddy with relief that the tedium of getting her off after he'd already cum wasn't an expectation for him. Now that he had ejaculated, she was no longer his problem.

On the long drive home, he tried to focus on the road but he saw Mandy's tits before him as if projected on the windshield. He could get another girl like her any time he wanted; it was a right that his government had granted to all men like him. He had never felt more patriotic. It was late, and only the occasional truck punctuated the blank page of the road laid out before him. Before he knew what he was doing, he felt his right hand on his hardening cock as his left hand continued to guide the steering wheel.

He remembered how it felt to take Mandy's nipples in his mouth, how soft and wet her cunt felt around his cock the first time he slipped the head of it inside her. He saw her big brown eyes, eyes that despite their innocence had already seen more cocks than most women in John's generation had seen in their lifetimes. He wondered how it would feel to plumb her vagina with his cock after another man, or a few men in a row, had already filled it with their disgusting slime. His own slime sprayed the bottom of the steering wheel as his vision briefly went blank. He didn't bother to put his cock back in his pants; it was dark out. He drove all the way home with his long, flaccid cock lounging on his right leg like a lizard and a spreading stain on his jeans. He was a man, and it was his world.